


Future First-Aid

by yagirlqueenie



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Injury Recovery, Minor Injuries, cit au, max gets lost in the woods because the platypus is a turd, takes place like 5 or 6 years in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yagirlqueenie/pseuds/yagirlqueenie
Summary: Max, now a CIT, is stuck with platypus hunting duty. During his daily morning hunt for the bastard, he finds himself at the Flower Scouts' camp after hopelessly chasing after Muack, and Sasha finds him all scraped up.
Relationships: Max/Sasha (Camp Camp)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Future First-Aid

**Author's Note:**

> This ship is so stupid, I love it so much.
> 
> I haven't written any legit fanfiction in GOD knows how long, hopefully it doesn't suck too much. Honestly, I was just having fun with his one, lol

Pushing back a stray pine branch away from his face, Max cursed under his breath as a few needles fell into his curls. His arms itched from the trees and bushes he’d been treading through for the past 45 minutes or so, he was positive he was forming _some_ form of rash from some poison oak he’d surely brushed up against earlier.

All of this bullshit just to find that _damn_ platypus again.

He’d only been working at Camp Campbell as a counselor-in-training for a few weeks now; he needed _some_ way to get himself out of the house and away from his parents ( _aaand_ he might’ve accidentally crashed his dad’s car into a tree and needed a quick cash grab to pay off the repairs and this was the easiest job to snag in a rush)

And-- perhaps as _some_ form of payback for being a little shit all those years ago-- as Gwen had Max on “finding Muack duty”, for the _6_ _th_ time this week, and it was only _Tuesday._

The stupid thing must’ve been dead by now, probably eaten by a bear or a moose or… _Whatever_ occupied these woods nowadays, because he’s seen _no_ sign of the little shit so far, and he was missing breakfast. On _waffle_ day, no less.

The rustling of a nearby bush caught his attention, his head whipped over towards its direction.

“Come on, you bastard,” he growled, “where the hell are you?”

More rustling; this must’ve been a game to her. Well, Max wasn’t in the mood to play, and he’d been out here way too long to care if he brought her back to camp dead or alive anymore at this point (assuming she _could_ die, that is.)

He launched himself towards a bush, watching her scurry away to another one. His brows furrowed as he rolled his eyes and he leaped for the 2nd one.

With that, she went for another bush, and then another, _and_ another one.

He stood up and cracked his knuckles before announcing “alright, little shit, we’re _ending_ this now!”

With what he could’ve sworn was either fear or a fire in her eyes, she ran through a hedge, letting out a “Muack!” on her way out.

Parting the hedge, Max was then greeted with a stone fence, maybe it was more of a wall? He didn’t know his fences; he didn’t care, he was tired, he was hungry, he just wanted to grab the damn platypus and pray there were leftover waffles left for him back at camp.

He sighed before he jumped the fence, immediately falling onto his side as he was greeted with a freshly cut lawn and a beautiful fountain on the other side. He knew this place, he knew every _damn_ perfect inch of it, in fact.

_Flower Scouts Troop #789._

And there he saw Muack, happily digging into a garbage can that was tucked away behind their dining hall. Inside, the scouts were all eating breakfast and talking about _God_ knows what at their fancy dining tables.

He groaned, of _course_ the lil shit ran out here, the garbage in those cans probably tasted amazing with all the expensive food they had catered inside. He picked himself up with a slump, quickly lifting the metal lid off of the can and grabbing the creature by her tail.

She hissed at him, but he quickly shushed her.

“You don’t get to be mad!” he whisper-shouted at her.

  
“ _Excuse me?”_

A throat cleared behind him, and he felt his soul leave his body for a split second.

Slowly looking back behind him, a semi-familiar face greeted him. A teenager- no older than he was- with a precise peachy-salmon head of hair and a Garden Mother’s uniform, all paired with an angry expression.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

A tense sigh escaped him, “L-listen, I’m just here to grab this fucker, I swear I’m not digging through your garbage”

“Really?” her brow raised.

Max’s brows dropped as he raised Muack up by her tail, and she stopped caring as she munched on a can, “does _this_ answer your question?” he asked.

Her expression eased a bit, “...I suppose. Sorry for assuming you were, like, a _hobo_ or something”

He rolled his eyes, “wow, _thanks._ ”

“It’s just, that, well… You’re a fucking _mess,_ what with… _All this_ ” She explained as she pulled a twig out of his curls.

“And you look Strawberry Shortcake’s rejected cousin”

Her brows furrowed, “ _you take that back”_

He snorted, “maybe you’re more like Princess Toadstool with how prissy you act”  
  


She let out a scoff, then another before she huffed in defeat.

“You got a lotta nerve… Uh...”

He rolled his eyes, propping Muack against his hip, “ _Max._ ”

Her brows lifted, “Max? Like Camp Campbell Max?”

He shrugged, “unless there’s any other Maxs at camp that I don’t know about, yeah”

“Wow…” she whispered, stepping closer to him slowly, “...Puberty’s _not_ been kind to you! LOL, you’re so short!”

She reached to put her hand on the top of his head, and he swiped her away from him. “Who says ‘lol’ out loud? God damn it...”

She laughed into her hand, “Sorry, sorry… It’s just-- I figured you’d be taller by now, is all”

She definitely had a few inches on him, even without the heeled booties she wore from the looks of it. Yep, that _definitely_ wasn’t going to eat at his ego later on.   
  


He groaned, “whatever, fuck you, I’m leaving,” he flipped her off before he stormed off towards the nearest gate, Muack still tucked at his side.

  
She quickly skipped back over to him- an impressive feat with her heels- and she grabbed his wrist.

“Hey, c’mon now, at _least_ let me clean you up, first!” she pleaded.

He turned his head back to her, “and why would I let _you_ do that?” he asked.

“Becauuuse,” she whined, “You’re hurt, _aaand_ I conveniently have to teach first aid today! If you let me use you as a dummy, we’d kill two birds with one stone!”

His expression dropped, “ _Seriously?_ ”

She nodded, “We have those flex-bandaids, not the cheap plastic-y ones that tug on hair and hurt like a bitch!”

He glared at her for a moment, taking a moment to think about it.

Her lips pressed as she rolled her eyes, “ _Aaaand_ I’ll let you have access to our lunch buffet before the scouts get to it”

His eyes lit up and he quickly held out his hand, “alright, red, we’ve gotta deal”

She shook his hand before she quickly pulled it back, “alright, we’re not on _nickname_ level, yet. Just call me Sasha.”

He shrugged, “whatever. Let’s just hurry up before I change my mind”

  
“First things first, the most important step to taking care of a cut is to clean the area. Ideally, you’ll want to use soap and warm water, but you can easily go without the soap if there’s none readily available at the moment”

Max sat in a fold-up chair, Muack minding her own business near his feet, chewing the can she stole from the trash as Sasha held his wrist up for the crowd in front of them.

The three of them were surrounded by a group of young girls, all ranging from elementary to middle school. They were all so clean, coated in glitter and sparkles and they all smelled like flowers and baked goods, a far contrast to the grimy and sticky campers back in Camp Campbell that he dealt with.

Next to Sasha was a small table, stocked with an array of first-aid goodies that his own camp seemed to lack. She was telling the truth with the fancy band-aids, she also had a set of clean washcloths, a bowl of warm water, a gentle soap, and there was even Neosporin. How _fancy._

She held out his wrist for the girls to see clearly, “now, it’s important to just clean the area _around_ the cut. Try to avoid getting soap in the wound, as this can irritate it. That’s what the Neosporin's for”

It felt like she had an entirely different personality in front of these girls, she seemed more… _Caring._

Or it could’ve been the fact that Miss Priss was watching her from across the room and she was _literally_ teaching First-aid to a bunch of kids. That could’ve been it, too.

But her voice and approach were much softer, much like her hands. She mentioned that she moisturized all those years ago, and it seemed to pay off.

...Not that he cared, though.

  
“Now, when putting on the Neosporin, you only want to use a little bit. A little goes a long way, ladies!”

She put a teensy-weensy little dab onto the cut on his wrist, then she gently and slowly placed the band-aid over the cut. “It’s also important to avoid touching the cut, and you’ll also want to avoid touching the cotton-y bit of the band-aid. You want to keep things as clean as possible!”

He glanced up to the older woman in the back of the room, she seemed to be taking a mental note of her performance, seemingly impressed overall. He then glanced back up at Sasha, watching her move onto the next cut.

“Any volunteers? We need gentle hands, here!” she declared with a smile, and his expression eased a bit considering his personal space was about to be invaded by a hoard of pre-teens.

Instantly, a wave of hands raised, and his stomach dropped. Nope, no more eased expression, he flashed Sasha a stressed expression, but her eyes were closed and he _knew_ he was fucked.

_37 band-aids._

The scouts used up _37_ band-aids on his arms. And he wasn’t even sure if he had 37 cuts to cover up.

Tons of tiny wrappers littered the carpet underneath his seat, and Muack was slowly munching on _all_ of them as the scouts bickered besides him.

“Alright, girls, you did _really_ good!! I’m sure he’ll be healed up in no time!!” She said with a smile as she boxed up the leftover bandages. “Now, if you all could sit back down for me, that’d be great!”

To their credit, the scouts were fairly well behaved. Much less… _Bitchy_ than the ones when he was a kid. But maybe they _were_ mean when the grown-ups took their attention off of them, God knows what these girls would’ve done if Sasha wasn’t in charge of them.

Sasha clasped her hands together, “alright, do we have any questions before Miss Priss takes charge?”

A few girls raised their hands, and Sasha pointed to a blonde girl in the back, “Sara?”

“Um, yeah, why did he have so many cuts on him?” she asked.

“Oh!” Sasha exclaimed. She looked over at Max before letting out, “he was, uh, walking in the woods off-trail. These kinds of things happen if you don’t follow the marked trails, you see”

A wave of “oh”s let out in the crowd and Max let himself zone out.

Honestly, he didn’t need to do much, he just had to sit there, get poked around with, then he’d get free food. Just like a school blood drive, basically.

He let Sasha continue the Q&A as he got lost in thought about lunch, he could already smell the catered buffet being assembled in the dining hall across the campgrounds.

  
“Um, Miss Sasha, we missed a spot on your boyfriend’s face, he’s still got a cut on his cheek!”

Well, that certainly brought him out of his zone. His posture jerked as Sasha’s face flushed red. She glanced over at him, visibly flustered as he looked at her with a shocked expression.

“He-he-he’s not my b-boyfriend!!” she exclaimed with a huff, and the girls all giggled. Now, _that_ was the kind of behavior he’d expected from them. “H-he’s just a friend at most!”

He looked over at her ~~soft~~ hands, watching as they crushed the box of bandages firmly from stress. He sunk back into his seat, his lips pressed together tightly.

She looked back at him, giving him an expression that pleaded for him to back her up.

“U-uh, yeah. We’re not dating, just friends… Maybe? I-I dunno. I’m just here to be a test dummy, is all,” he explained as he stood up, flipping his hood over his head as he reached for the platypus at his side. “You shouldn’t assume people are dating like that. It’s fucking rude”

“You’re fucking rude,” a girl said in the crowd. He wouldn’t even honor them with an eye roll on that one.

“Okay, well, it was great being here, but I’m gonna go grab a to-go plate and skedaddle,” he explained, debating on if a peace sign or the middle finger was a more appropriate gesture for the swarm of pre-teens. They all giggled as he left, and Sasha followed close by.

“H-hey, Max, hold up,” she said, and he stopped right in his place.

The hallways were nice, a cozy warm peachy color with wall sconces adding to the warmth in an otherwise long empty hallway. The door to the activity room closed behind Sasha as she sprinted to catch up to him, the crushed box of band-aids still in her grasp.

She caught her breath, “Y-your face… It’s uh… Still got a cut on it,” she explained.

Her face was still red, was it from embarrassment or from her trying to sprint in heels? She had a light shake to her hands, her dainty fingers twitching on the wrinkled cardboard box.

He looked off to the side, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Uh, I-I can take care of that by myself,” he reassured her, “It’s just a tiny cut, it’ll heal on it’s own”

She took a tiny step closer towards him as if there was an invisible barrier between the two that made it impossible for her to come closer than 7 inches from him.

She held up the box of band-aids, “...we have extra in storage, I figured you’d want one of the fancy ones instead of the cheap shit you’ve got at Camp,” she explained, quickly picking a stray pine-needle out of his hair.

He swallowed a gulp of spit before taking the box from her hand, their fingers brushing for a moment before he pocketed the box in his hoodie.

He looked up at the ceiling, focusing instead on the molded wallpaper on the ceiling (ceilingpaper?), “Uh, th-thanks,” he said, his voice cracking.

Oh geez, okay, that was his sign to grab his grub and _leave._

He turned on his heel, heading towards the dining hall as he tugged his hood over his head to hide the red hue that threatened to spill onto his cheeks.

“D-don’t forget the soap!” she called out with a light embarrassed chuckle.

He returned one, “yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again, Sash”

She didn’t correct him on the nickname issue, not this time. She simply waved him off before she got back to the scouts.

He let out a sigh as he reached for a plate, setting down Muack so he could scoop some food without her interfering.

“Y’know, here’s about where I’d lecture you on running out into the woods...” He looked back to the hall, closing his eyes before he looked back at the platypus, “but I think you’ve gotten enough shit this week”

He tossed a roll down onto the ground for her before he went back to the buffet, trying his damn best to focus on the food and not on the pretty peachy color of the hall that reminded him of her fluffy hair.


End file.
